


stoned kisses

by SETILamarr



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Weed, first makeout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1363651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SETILamarr/pseuds/SETILamarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>zayn lights up and sucks in deeply, holding in the hit, letting it out, and taking another before passing the joint to niall. zayn exhales a perfect smoke ring and niall would almost feel self-conscious as he coughs after his first inhale, but it’s zayn, sweet, gentle zayn, who’s never said a cruel word to any of them in all the years they’ve known one another, and niall stops worrying about looking inexpert.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	stoned kisses

**Author's Note:**

> my good tumblr pal harold-christ gave me the prompt "ziall getting high and smooching" and that's how i wrote my first fanfic in over three years. gentle feedback appreciated. :)

they got in late last night and they don’t have a show until tomorrow, so zayn gets to sleep until noon, for once. when he blinks awake, he can hear the tv on in the suite’s living room and he stumbles in wearing thin trackies, with the duvet wrapped around his shoulders, to find a vest-and-pants-clad niall clutching an enormous bowl brimming with sugar cereal and milk, watching cartoons. zayn smiles fondly.

"morning, nialler," he murmurs, stumbling over to curl opposite his bandmate on the couch. niall grins and offers him a bite, but zayn shakes his head. "where’re the others?"

"ah, i think liam’s hittin’ the weights, and harry ‘n’ louis went out t’ try and see some sights," niall replies.

"mm," zayn nods, trying to focus his sleep-fogged brain on the show.

"wasn’t expectin’ t’ see you up an’ about so early," niall teases, and zayn kicks a foot at him good-naturedly before they settle into a companionable silence, punctuated by the crunch of niall’s chewing and the squeaky dialogue and sound effects from the television.

when the episode they’re watching ends and a new one is beginning, zayn does a little catlike stretch and wiggle before standing and heading back into the bedroom. “‘m gonna smoke a joint if you wanna join me,” he calls to niall over his shoulder as he begins rooting around in his bag for the little plastic case where he keeps papers and pot. he and louis are the real stoners of the group; liam refrains and harry partakes only on special occasions. niall, however, can go either way as it suits him—the way he can with so many things in life. zayn would almost envy him for it except that niall’s simultaneously laid-back and genuinely enthusiastic approach to almost every situation keeps the whole band in good spirits even when they might otherwise be in less than the best of humor.

"sure, all right," he hears, and grins to himself—he hasn’t been high with niall in a while, and it’s always a good laugh.

niall pads into the bedroom and watches as zayn rolls a joint, impeccably as usual. he’s all slender fingers and knit brows and flashes of pink tongue and niall is glad he decided to smoke, likes watching the older boy practice his finely-honed craft of rolling the perfect j, likes sharing quiet time with zayn (as he enjoys one-on-one moments with all his boys).

zayn finishes and grabs his lighter and pack of smokes from the nightstand and gestures for niall to follow him onto the balcony. there’s barely room for the two of them but they wedge themselves between the sliding glass door and the railing, facing one another, legs loosely intertwined. zayn lights up and sucks in deeply, holding in the hit, letting it out, and taking another before passing the joint to niall. zayn exhales a perfect smoke ring and niall would almost feel self-conscious as he coughs after his first inhale, but it’s zayn, sweet, gentle zayn, who’s never said a cruel word to any of them in all the years they’ve known one another, and niall stops worrying about looking inexpert.

they pass the joint back and forth until it’s down to the roach, and zayn stubs it out in the ashtray next to him before lighting a cigarette. “you want a drag?” he offers lazily after a few puffs and niall, who normally would demur, accepts this time. the tobacco goes down smoother than the pot did and niall could swear it’s making him feel even more loopy as he hands it back to zayn, who catches his eye and lets out a breathy laugh.

"you’re stoned, nialler," he giggles.

"yeah," niall agrees contentedly, rolling his shoulders and twisting his hips back and forth a little in the cramped space. when he takes the proffered cigarette a second time, zayn’s fingers graze his for the briefest of moments but he feels it like a jolt. and when he presses the filter to his lips and sucks, he feels acutely aware that he’s putting his mouth where zayn’s just was. niall feels himself begin to flush under the intent gaze of the other boy, and all of a sudden he notices the heat of the midday sun beating down on them.

zayn takes a few final drags of the cigarette before it joins the roach in the ashtray, and he kneels up, right between niall’s spread thighs. it’s hazy and hot now in niall’s brain, and he watches zayn’s slow blink raptly, watches those long eyelashes graze his cut-glass cheekbones. zayn reaches out and trails the backs of his fingers over niall’ forehead and how are his hands so cool? he has an almost studious look on his face, lower lip caught between his teeth.

"niall," he breathes, closing the gap between their faces until their foreheads touch. even zayn’s forehead feels cool. niall licks his lips.

"wanna kiss you," zayn mumbles. “‘zat all right?"

"go fer it," niall answers, and zayn does, presses their hot mouths together slowly but forcefully. niall feels a coil of heat low in his belly, wonders what they’re doing, wonders why they’ve never done it before. he pushes back into the kiss and zayn’s hands come to rest lightly at his waist and it’s a lot, all slowed down and heated up, and niall’s never even really kissed a guy before but it’s zayn, who hasn’t wondered what it would be like to kiss zayn? zayn has probably wondered what it would be like to kiss zayn,—

niall shakes his head a little to clear it of that line of thinking, just lets his mind go white except for the feel of soft lips and sharp teeth. he hears a little moan and realizes with a start that the sound came from him.

zayn pulls back then. “this okay with you?” he asks. niall gives a fervent nod. “wanna go inside?” another nod.

they clamber awkwardly to their feet and niall’s heart leaps into his throat when he feel’s zayn’s half-hard dick brush against his hip as he slides the door open. “sorry!” zayn exclaims softly. “we don’t have to do-“

niall cuts him off sharply with another kiss and lets zayn feel the returning press of his own growing erection, just for a second.

they stumble to the bed like sleepwalkers, hypnotized by the pot and the hot day and one another. they trade gentle, stoned kisses for what feels like hours, pausing only to sip water from the glass on the nightstand and stare searchingly into one another’s eyes, then doze off, curled together contentedly.


End file.
